


All The Stones That Lay Stacked

by toucanpie



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24057640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toucanpie/pseuds/toucanpie
Summary: Cullen had lost track of how long he'd been in the water before someone started dragging him out.
Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford
Comments: 10
Kudos: 95
Collections: Id Pro Quo 2020





	All The Stones That Lay Stacked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Penknife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penknife/gifts).



"If you're going to keep staring at me like that, you should at least buy me a drink first."

Cullen heard the words, but they didn't quite sink in. He blamed it on the intense cold that he couldn't shake off, no matter how much his body trembled without his permission.

Dorian's naked chest glowed with reflected firelight, making him look like something fictional. That was how Cullen knew he was definitely not quite back to where he should be; his mind didn't resist the description. Nothing stirred inside him and asserted firmly that Dorian was not picturesque, was not well-served by shadows of dancing flames, was not even the slightest bit attractive in the warm orange light.

"Come on Commander," Dorian said, waving a hand in-front of his face. "I know you're in there somewhere, no doubt overthinking something. Come out of your little cocoon of arduousness and talk to me."

Cullen didn't have the words for talking. He was still piecing together how it happened for himself. Dorian's fingers easing off his sodden armour, a flare of magic that had made him flinch, and then hands rubbing firmly up and down his shoulders until warmth finally began to seep in. The crisp smell of magic flame as Dorian set about drying something. Fabric being draped over him that was unfamiliar. The crackle of fire and then this moment - him staring awkwardly across at Dorian in the half-light with chattering teeth and a tongue too thick to speak with.

Something had pulled him out, that he knew, up past the steep walls of the flooded quarry that he hadn't been able to get any purchase on. He'd been so cold he hadn't been able to move and though he'd been aware of water spilling out of his mouth, he had barely been able to feel it because his lips had been numb for hours.

Someone had come in close, cupped his cheek and talked him through the residue of panic. Rubbed life into his face and kept talking until his muscles unlocked enough for him to take gradually deeper breaths.

Dorian. Dorian had done that.

"A flicker of recognition in those eyes, at last!" Dorian peered at him more closely. "I was beginning to think the water had frozen your brain quite solid."

He peeled back the fabric that was draped over Cullen's shoulder and peeked inside.

"And the blue tinge almost gone, too. My, I'm a much better nursemaid than I thought."

He tucked the cloth back and Cullen realised as he did that it smelled unfamiliar, couldn't be his. Logically, then, it had to be the reason that Dorian himself wasn't wearing anything over his chest. He tried to reach up to remove at least one piece and give it back but his elbows seized and the chill from even the tiniest bit of air getting inside his makeshift blanket made him shudder.

Dorian paused in throwing what looked like a bundle of paper in the fire.

Cullen followed the graceful arc of papers like a moth chasing flame. One was ribbon-bound and looked expensive.

"Letters from Tevinter," Dorian said airily, "the best fuel for a fire when the corpses of those who hate you aren't available."

It hurt a little to try and smile but Cullen still tried.

"Dorian -" he said, stumbling a little with his thick tongue.

"Cassandra is going to be intensely furious with me," Dorian said, as if Cullen hadn't spoken at all. "Firstly for not marching you home the moment I found you, even though you are clearly not yet in any for state for travel -"

"Dorian -" Cullen said again.

"- and secondly for talking her out of finding you a mabari to share that miserable lonely tower of yours. Why do I feel quite certain that if you'd had a four-legged friend it would've found some way to drag you out of that quarry hours ago? Saving you some hours of my mundane company and -"

Cullen's arm worked just enough that he was able to reach out and lay a hand on Dorian's arm. Not a firm grasp, as his fingers were still ice blocks, but enough to stop him talking.

"Thank you," he said.

Dorian gave him a look so scandalised that if Cullen hadn't known him, he would've assumed he'd violated a sacred Tevinter custom.

"Well," Dorian said, after a long minute where he looked no less completely horrified to be thanked for having saved a companion's life. "I'm glad your hands are working. You're going to need them to hold the reins tomorrow."

Cullen didn't tell him he couldn't feel anything under his fingertips. He pulled the hand back under the warmth of Dorian's shirt and turned his gaze back to the fire with a flush he could only just feel.

"I hope you're not hurt."

"Well, I ache all over, now that you ask, actually," Dorian said. "Maybe you should lay off the cooks' blancmanges for awhile. Hauling you out of there was a bit of a trial, even though I do have more muscles than many of my magically-inclined friends."

Cullen had never really given the matter any thought but the firelight did indeed lend Dorian's body shadows in the places where muscles had built grooves. His arms in particular had definite strength, strength that now seemed like it should have been familiar and obvious before, given how prone Dorian was to wearing clothes that stopped at his shoulders.

"We should try and sleep," he said, taking his eyes yet again from Dorian's body and back to the fire. If he was to try and ride back to Skyhold tomorrow he would need the rest.

Dorian tutted incredulously. "A sweet but stupid notion. Now that you've recovered your sentience, you should be moving about to increase blood flow. I've been toying with suggesting you go for a run around the quarry but I worry that you might trip on your own terrible ideas and fall in again."

"I got knocked -"

"I know," Dorian said. "I found the half dead one on the way down. You left a disgusting but helpful trail of his entrails right to the edge."

"Is he -"

"Dead?" Dorian stopped and looked at him curiously. "When I was done, quite definitively, I'm afraid. Why, did you need him for something?"

Cullen shook his head. Dorian's tone had changed just then, to something almost defensive, but he had no idea why.

"I don't think running is something I'm capable of right now," he admitted. He could not truthfully feel his toes.

"More vigorous rubbing it is, then," Dorian said, with a sigh. "Come on, Commander, let's get you warm."

\---

Cullen tried to feebly protest but Dorian would have none of it.

"I can't have you freezing on my watch," he said, as he casually put his hands on Cullen's thighs. He paused with them there for a moment and then began working them back and forth over the still damp material of Cullen's breeches.

Cullen felt slightly relieved they hadn't joined his shirt on a log by the fire even though he knew they probably should've. Whose blushes Dorian had been trying to spare in not taking them off him, he didn't know.

He looked up, meaning to ask, maybe to bring a little lightness, but Dorian's head was bent, his attention focused on warming Cullen's legs and Cullen felt himself flush again. He'd been on many long journeys as a Templar, walked sodden and freezing through many a miserable night, and never once had anyone ever bothered to care whether he had feelings in his legs.

And Dorian, with his bent head and careful but firm hands was - well, both thorough and vigorous. Even Cullen's short list of lovers had been more cautious with his body than Dorian was. Dorian who seemed quite happy pressing his fingers firmly into muscles that were not just cold but sore.

"I'm sure I can manage," he said, numbly covering one of Dorian's hands with his own.

"Yes, you were doing wonderfully before I came along, weren't you," Dorian said, picking up Cullen's hands and pointedly moving them to his sides. "Just wonderfully, indeed. Another few hours and I would've been pulling out your corpse, or are we just glossing over that part, hm?"

Cullen had a reply for that, something about how he hardly intended to be thrown off the edge of a flooded quarry, but Dorian barely paused for a breath.

"How about you let me finish and then you can tell me how much you don't need any help from anyone, least of all me, no doubt?"

It stung but there was enough truth in it to make Cullen stop his mouth on a full rejoinder.

"There's no least of all," he said, stubbornly, because there was not. Had he a list of potential rescuers to choose from, there was no reason he would've excluded Dorian.

"I see," Dorian said, "no help from literally anyone at all it is, then."

Cullen sighed exasperatedly. "I'm letting you help," he said. "You're helping. I'm just sorry to bring you out into the dark looking for me and to put you out of your clothes and to spoil your evening."

"Of course," Dorian said, with what looked very much like an eyeroll. "My evening has greatly suffered. It will be having words with me later. I have quite put it out. It will no doubt refuse to speak to me ever again, this evening of mine."

His strokes on Cullen's thighs became particularly vigorous.

"I think what I'm trying to say may have got confused," Cullen said, after a pause.

Dorian stopped with a sigh and raised his head to stare at Cullen. He was still unnaturally attractive in the firelight and it hurt Cullen a little to think of it.

Dorian's brow furrowed, his mouth opened and then closed again. Then with another sigh he gave a theatrical shrug.

"Let's move on. I feel it's time we got you out of those wet clothes. Please don't mount yet another noble protest, I'd hate to have throw you back in the water."

It was rare that Cullen was ever truly lost for words. Yet in that moment his mind seemed to clear of anything useful at all. The idea of losing the rest of his clothes and Dorian potentially continuing his vigorous rubbing on other parts of his body was both deeply embarrassing and worryingly alluring.

"I suppose if I say no, you'll use it to prove a point about my character?"

"How astute," Dorian said. "Yes, I will. Perhaps you ought to take off your clothes and save me the trouble."

Cullen found himself suddenly, inappropriately, smiling.

"I would've thought you might at least buy me a drink first," he said, reaching to tug Dorian's shirt a little tighter around his shoulders

He thought for a moment that he'd said it too quietly to be heard because Dorian remained quiet. But then Dorian tilted his head and gave him a look from beneath his lashes that seemed both amused and something else Cullen did not know quite how to read.

The sometimes hard line of Dorian's mouth eased into a smile. "I suppose we're equal on that front, then," he murmured.

\---

When they were lying side-by-side on the ground, under a makeshift cover of what clothes of theirs were dry, Dorian cleared his throat.

"You soften somewhat in the firelight, you know," he said. His expression was more relaxed than it had been prior.

Cullen swallowed but didn't look away. "I do?"

"Cullen," Dorian chided. "You're meant to reply something like 'well Dorian, now that I think of it, your eyes are like starlight itself reflected'."

"I can't think of anything that would sound worse," Cullen said truthfully.

Dorian shuffled a little closer with what seemed very deliberate casualness. "How hilarious, because I can think of any number of things that would be significantly worse."

Cullen chuckled. Dorian's eyes perhaps were a deeper brown than he had ever noticed before, but it was the warmth behind them that he liked. The sudden generosity of Dorian's actions and the surprising fondness to even the sharpest words he'd spoken.

"Tell me them," he says, because he wasn't ready for sleep.

"Well," Dorian said, with a theatrical wiggle of one eyebrow. "There's 'my, my did you keep your codpiece on under the covers or are you just happy to see me?' No, not for you? Well you could go for the more straight forward approach employed by our dearest Quinari friend and simply look me in the eye and murmur 'want to fuck?'"

Cullen couldn't help but smile.

"I think we both know that's unlikely to happen."

Dorian smiled back but something about his face seemed wistful.

"But the sentiment itself might not be unwelcome?" he said, after a moment.

Cullen's throat stuck. Dorian's face was suddenly still, unguarded in the dim light. He waited for an answer like a man who had something to lose and it made Cullen's chest twist with some combination of nerves and he knew not what.

"No," he said, slowly. He was no coward, or so he told himself, but it felt like a leap into the unknown to answer the question, none the less

Dorian's eyes didn't move from his for even a moment and his gaze seemed suddenly laden with an emotion Cullen couldn't quite read.

"Though -" Cullen added, suddenly feeling unsure.

"No justifications or addendums required," Dorian interrupted. "Unless you were going to say something else?"

He raised an eyebrow delicately.

"Thank you for saving my life," Cullen said.

"Oh." The attentiveness in Dorian's eyes seemed to wane. "Well, my pleasure etcetera, of course. Let's not do it again."

"Let's not," Cullen agreed.

Dorian looked carefully away, as if the moment had passed, like he had been given a brush-off and accepted it. It didn't seem quite right

"Are you warm enough?" Cullen asked.

Dorian's gaze shifted to him very deliberately. "Well," he said. "I could be positively freezing if you need me to be. Or very warm if you don't. Do you think I should be positively freezing?"

"If you'd like to be," Cullen said, with a feeling there was a smile creeping its way onto his face. It suddenly felt a lot easier to talk, as if they were back where they had been a moment before.

Dorian didn't move but his eyes seemed to twinkle.

"Perhaps you ought to warm me up, Commander," he said, shifting so his bare shoulder just slipped from under their makeshift covers. "I suddenly feel so terribly cold."

\--

Cullen reached out hesitantly and touched the bare skin of Dorian's shoulder. It was smooth, warm, an invitation in itself.

Dorian held firm, but his attention was clearly centred on Cullen.

Cullen took his hand a little higher, to Dorian's cheek. A little rough with stubble but also warm. Still Dorian held firm, as if such an exploration was normal, or, conversely maybe even different enough to be special.

Cullen's hand shook minutely as he moved on from Dorian's cheek to touch the pad of his thumb to Dorian's mouth, to his quick and sometimes wicked lips. There he paused, wondering if Dorian was as generous with them as he was with his words.

When he ran his thumb along the length of Dorian's lower lip, Dorian swallowed noticeably, his lashes dipping and turning his gaze sultry. It was a strange and heady look to be on the receiving end of, full of promise for things that Cullen hadn't even got around to imagining. It had been such a long time since he had touched anyone with passion that an apology came swimming to the front of his mind, waiting to be spoken, even though he knew immediately it would sound foolish.

Maybe he watched Dorian's mouth too closely, or gave away too many of his self-reflective thoughts with his gaze, because Dorian stopped being still. He took Cullen's outstretched hand in his and, not looking away from Cullen once, kissed the tip of each of Cullen's fingers slowly, his mouth just as warm and smooth as it had felt.

"Do carry on," Dorian said. His voice was low enough that it caused something deep inside Cullen to stir. He swallowed fruitlessly.

"Maybe here, next?" Dorian's hand guided his own down to touch Dorian's invitingly tilted neck.

Cullen made a slightly embarrassing noise and then traced a strong tendon of the side of Dorian's neck. He knew it was somewhere a lover would kiss, and he lingered there smoothing the skin back and forth, imagining what it must feel like, whether it might be something Dorian would like, had already done, perhaps regularly did, with other people who knew their way about him better.

"Mmn," Dorian said warmly. He brought Cullen's fingers back up to his mouth and kissed his hand again. "I'm enjoying this, I am, but I think it may be my turn now."

Cullen froze, something inside him tripping into a nervousness that felt akin to fear.

"I -"

"I'll be gentle," Dorian murmured, rubbing softly at Cullen's fingers. His eyes were hot.

"You don't need -" Cullen said, stopping before finishing.

Dorian waited for a moment and then kissed his fingers again, slower, his mouth lingering on Cullen's skin longer than was needed.

"To touch you? Or to be gentle with you?"

Cullen swallowed, unable to look up, his cheeks burning at the implication of the second option.

"Or both?" Dorian murmured huskily in a way that made Cullen feel shamelessly easy.

"Dorian -" he said. He wanted to ask him to not to say such things, not to watch him and miss apparently nothing, but that would only give himself away more.

"I'd enjoy if it were either," Doian said idly. He turned Cullen's hand until his fingers were loosely clasped round Cullen's wrist. He held it like that and pressed his lips to Cullen's pulse point, then bit lightly with his teeth.

A sound escaped Cullen that he couldn't control and he pulled his hand back, ashamed of the rush of intense heat that swamped his whole body, making his cock finish filling and throb.

"No?" Dorian asked. "Too much?"

"Dorian -" he choked. "If you don't -"

"What?" Dorian asked. He stayed exactly where he was but his eyes seemed to move across Cullen's face like a caress.

"- touch me," Cullen gasped. Some heady thing had taken control of his mouth.

He would've tried to claw the words back in, but Dorian was already moving closer, hushing him easily.

He reached out to reverse their positions, putting his thumb over Cullen's mouth and tracing his own lips. Cullen shuddered, suddenly alight with warmth, caught in the way Dorian watched him, still. If Dorian's hands on his legs had been an unexpected awakening, his fingers were a terrifying crescendo that didn't seem to want to crest.

He was aware he had parted his lips only when Dorian's thumb stuck slightly on dampness. The minute tug seemed to pull at his whole body, jerking his thoughts towards touches far more intimate, an exploration much more obscene. He opened his mouth to try and convey an invitation for more, possibly for anything Dorian wanted, but no words offered themselves up. He stuttered soundlessly, trying to find a way to frame a desire for something he hardly had words to explain. Dorian could perhaps even keep his hand there for the entire night and Cullen would be happy.

"I'm sorry," he said as Dorian moved on to touch his cheek with his knuckles.

"What would you apologise for?" Dorian murmured. "This is very, very nice. I'm not even sure I'm awake."

Cullen huffed an embarrassed laugh. "I'm sure you have better dreams than this."

"Are you?" Dorian said, his fingers moved to touch Cullen's lips, his expression wondrous. "I'm not."

Dorian leaned up on his left shoulder, his face only a short distance from Cullen's, and Cullen found himself embarrassed again at how it felt to look up at him and lie passive as Dorian touched him.

Dorian eased his hand away then, murmured something nondescript that sounded sweet, and kissed him.

It struck Cullen suddenly that he had missed out on a lot, only previously playing chess with Dorian. Dorian's mouth was soft, the pressure kind and unrelenting, the kiss itself careful.

Then Dorian slowly leaned over, letting his weight come to rest against Cullen's body, solid, pressing down into him, and he shuddered all over. He grasped blindly and found skin that was as burningly hot as he felt, supple and solid. It only served as a reminder that they were both naked, that his body was shamefully aroused and ready for more, so much more.

He tilted his head to kiss Dorian back more firmly, so he could forget his own inadequacy. He only lasted a minute of Dorian's hot mouth, of Dorian's teeth nipping lightly at his bottom lip, before he had to pull back for breath.

"Please," he said, suddenly yearning to feel more of Dorian's skin against his.

Dorian pressed closer, aligning his whole body against Cullen's until Cullen could feel every inch of him and felt better for it.

"You don't have to be gentle," Cullen said, before he could lose his nerve. "However you want it." There was another please on his lips, but his body spoke it for him, rubbing shamelessly against Dorian's until he could feel Dorian hard against his thigh.

"Cullen," Dorian said, his palm suddenly flat and splayed against Cullen's chest.

He reached out and curled a hand round Dorian's upper arm, tugged him closer to get more of him. Where he might once have felt shame at being so eager, he now only felt gladness at how easily Dorian came to him.

Dorian kissed him again, deeper, pressing his body hard against Cullen's and cupping his neck in a way that made Cullen shudder.

"Let's get you properly warm now, shall we," he murmured, easing back with his lips red and flushed as he pushed more of the covers away.


End file.
